


Begging for Death

by GoldFrostbite13



Series: Blood, Sweat & Sex | A Multi-Fandom Oneshot Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe Sixth Year, Anal Sex, Anger Sex, Blood and Injury, Cutting, Dominant Harry, Heavy BDSM, Kinky, M/M, Masochist draco, Mostly Consensual Underage Sex, Murder, Not for the Innocent, Self-Harm, Submissive Draco, Written by Request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:54:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24638713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldFrostbite13/pseuds/GoldFrostbite13
Summary: "They broke apart, both panting and glaring at each other with equal parts hostility and lust. Harry was unexpectedly struck by how sexy Malfoy looked [...] And his lips...Merlin, he could kiss them for days. But Harry had more on his mind, and judging from Malfoy's expression, he did too."Tempers are running higher than ever between enemies Draco and Malfoy during Potions until Harry discovers self-inflicted scars on Malfoy's arm. Harry confronts Malfoy about them and unearths a shocking secret that he finds inexplicably attractive. One thing leads to another, and the two sexually frustrated teens find themselves in a closed-door situation that leaves them flooded with desire - and covered in blood.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Blood, Sweat & Sex | A Multi-Fandom Oneshot Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737082
Comments: 9
Kudos: 47
Collections: Lizzyant Drarry, Some smut





	Begging for Death

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ALWDLM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALWDLM/gifts).



> Disclaimer: Author does not recommend having sex as a minor. Practice safe sex especially if you are underage, and always ask your partner(s) for consent. If you are self-harming or suicidal, talk to a trusted adult about it or contact a national suicide hotline.

Copious amounts of golden steam rose from eight different cauldrons, making everyone’s eyes water. Throughout the dungeon, each pair of students squinted through the shimmering haze, carefully mixing the ingredients of nearly finished Annoyance Draught.

It was a mark of Snape’s overwhelming hatred for Harry that he had partnered him with Draco Malfoy; each teenager felt that they were the ones being punished the most. Between grinding porcupine quills and juicing Withered Cacti pods, the two glared with intense loathing at each other and snapped whenever one of them showed the faintest sign of messing up.

“It’s _four_ teaspoons, not three, you blithering idiot,” Malfoy said sharply, batting Harry’s hand away before he could add more quill.

“Maybe if you’d quit shouting at me for more than two seconds, I could focus!” Harry shot back. He threw an angry glance at Snape, whose lip curled in response. Unwilling to lose house points for unnecessary talking, Harry hissed his next words under his breath.

“You’re a right pain in the ass, you know that?”

“Not my fault you’re dim as a troll.”

“Git.”

“Imbecile.”

Despite their bickering, the students had almost finished producing a half-decent Annoyance Draught. It wasn’t the exact shade of crimson the instructions indicated, but maroon was close enough. The last step required a precise alternation of sprinkling cayenne pepper and stirring, together with a gradual heating of the cauldron.

“Do the flames, Potter,” Malfoy commanded, rolling his robe sleeves up. “You’d only wreck this bit.”

Muttering profanities under his breath, Harry reached beneath the cauldron as Malfoy carefully performed the last step. As soon as Malfoy finished, Harry extinguished the fire with a flick of his wand, and the potion’s surface immediately calmed, the steam’s flow ceasing.

Perspiration had gathered on Malfoy’s brow, and he wiped it off impatiently with his bare forearm, slightly mussing his blond hair. As he reached for a flask to pour the potion in, Harry caught a glimpse of his arm. The inside of Malfoy’s left forearm was wildly crisscrossed with raised scars, some redder and newer than others. Harry’s eyebrows shot up into his hair; Malfoy had been looking more wan and depressed lately, but harming himself? It didn’t seem very Draco-Malfoy-ish of him.

“Malfoy, what’s going on?” Harry said in a low, calm voice.

“What do you mean?” Malfoy replied, exasperated, as he put a stopper in the potion. His pale grey eyes met Harry’s green ones briefly, then he realized what the Gryffindor was looking at. Making a sort of strangled noise, Malfoy quickly yanked down his sleeves and made to carry the flask to the professor’s desk.

“Malfoy!” Harry said insistently, but the Slytherin kept his mouth in a tight line as he swept away. The bell for lunch rang not long after that, and Malfoy came back to their shared station to collect his school things, uncharacteristically saying nothing and avoiding Harry’s eyes.

Part of Harry wanted to leave the matter alone, but the jarring image of Malfoy’s carved, red-lined skin had burned itself into his brain. Propelled by a strong curiosity, Harry hurried out of the classroom after his arch-nemesis, ignoring Ron and Hermione’s shouted inquiries.

Harry spotted the edge of Malfoy’s robes as they fluttered around a corner, and Harry jogged through the collecting throng of students until he reached the Slytherin in an empty hallway. Malfoy walked rapidly, his nervously tensed shoulders disturbing his normally elegant posture.

“Oi!” Harry called after him, and Malfoy reluctantly stopped, turning to face him.

“What do you want, Potter?” Malfoy spat as Harry neared, though Harry noticed his tone held a hint of fear instead along with the usual disdain.

“What’s the matter with your arm?” Harry asked, genuinely concerned. Though he’d never admit it, not even to his friends, he did care a small bit about Malfoy. After all, he’d been a school rival for six years now; surely that meant something. And Harry felt troubled at the prospect of haughty Malfoy being so unhappy that he’d hurt himself.

“Nothing’s the matter with my arm,” Malfoy said coolly, but Harry saw him visibly swallow. “Something must be wrong with your eyesight.”

“Malfoy, you can tell me,” Harry said firmly. “I promise I won’t tell anyone. I just want to help.”

A manic grin suddenly spread across Malfoy’s face, and Harry’s eyes widened in alarm. “Help? _Help?_ ” Malfoy cried, his voice rising to hysterical notes, “Ha…You’ve got the completely wrong idea, as usual. I’m beyond help.”

“No, I mean it. Look, things might seem bad now, but you can get out of this. You shouldn’t be hurting yourself to cope, Malfoy.”

“That’s very interesting of you to say,” Malfoy replied, tilting his head. He took a few menacing steps towards Harry, still wearing that unnerving smile. “I guess you’re right, in one respect. I am doing it to cope. But perhaps not in the way you think.”

The look in Malfoy’s eyes seemed almost lecherous, and Harry frowned in confusion. “What do you…?”

“I guess if you’re so desperate to know, I might as well tell you,” Malfoy said with a shrug. He slowly pulled down his left sleeve while making searing eye contact with Harry, continuing to walk towards him until the Gryffindor suddenly found himself against the wall. “I cut myself because…” He paused, turning his pale and wounded forearm so Harry could see it properly. The cuts were unmistakably deep, deliberately so. “I love it.”

The pair’s noses were nearly touching, and Harry was finding it difficult to think. He silently sifted through the information Malfoy had just given him, scrabbling for a label. _Masochist._ Draco Malfoy was a masochist, a pain-lover, someone who derived pleasure from pain and humiliation…Harry’s mind conjured images, of Malfoy shrieking under his brutal touch, eyes rolling as Harry carved his pearly skin with a knife. Harry had, admittedly, fantasized about hurting or degrading Malfoy in some way, but he never seriously considered acting on it. Harry had never considered himself a sadist until this very moment, and the growing tightness in his pants confirmed it.

Throughout this treacherous train of thought, Malfoy had subtly shifted so his right thigh pressed slightly between Harry’s legs, and the Slytherin smirked. “Seems like you’re into the idea, Potter.”

Gasping, Harry tried to shift away, but Malfoy only moved closer, bending down a bit so he could whisper in Harry’s ear. “Do it, then. Watch me hurt myself. Dominate me,” He murmured, hand reaching up to Harry’s neck, nails biting into flesh. “I can tell you want to. I’m not against the idea, personally.”

The choice of shoving Malfoy away and calling him a cowardly prat presented itself before Harry. But to his surprise, he took the other, bolder path. Harry swiftly grabbed Malfoy’s shoulders, spinning him around and ramming him into the wall.

“I thought I was the one in control here,” Harry growled, fingers digging into Malfoy’s shoulders.

Malfoy gave Harry his trademark smirk, which Harry wanted to immediately wipe off his handsome face. The solution, naturally, was to kiss him.

Harry lunged forward and pressed his mouth to Malfoy’s and was nearly caught off guard by how quickly and passionately he reacted. Their lips parted after only a moment, allowing their tongues to clash rather sloppily. Despite Malfoy’s height advantage, Harry quickly gained dominance, pinning the Slytherin’s arms up on the wall as he kissed him furiously.

They broke apart, both panting and glaring at each other with equal parts hostility and lust. Harry was unexpectedly struck by how sexy Malfoy looked, with strands of hair over his face and silver eyes glinting with sinful anger. And his lips…Merlin, he could kiss them for days. But Harry had more on his mind, and judging from Malfoy’s expression, he did too.

“Fuck me,” Malfoy said hoarsely, and it wasn’t a statement of annoyance, but a demand.

“Gladly.” Harry grabbed Malfoy’s hand, both of them walking briskly down a hallway and scanning for an empty classroom.

As soon as they found one, apparently unused with the desks stacked against the wall, Harry pushed Malfoy inside and slammed the door, locking it and casting a silencing charm. Malfoy smirked at Harry’s hurry, casually sitting down on the larger, teacher’s desk at the end of the room.

“If I’d known you were this eager to shag me, I would have asked a lot sooner,” Malfoy remarked, shrugging off his outer robes and tossing them in a corner as Harry did the same.

“Shut up,” Harry snapped. Finally, he would get to see Malfoy writhing and helpless before him, with gratuitous fucking on the side. Harry had been wanting to have sex with someone, male or not, for quite a while - he was a horny teenager, after all.

Harry only got half his buttons undone before he reached Malfoy, and their lips collided with renewed desire. Ripping fabric mixed with moaning as they scrambled to tear each other’s shirts off. Harry’s hands found themselves all over Malfoy’s body, around his slender waist, over his chest taut with Quidditch muscles, slipping over his silky shoulders. Malfoy’s hands wandered as well, coming to rest firmly on the edge of Harry’s belt as Malfoy pulled away.

Flushed, and breathing deeply, the pair locked eyes as Malfoy undid the belt with a clink of metal. He slipped his fingers down the hem, tugging Harry’s trousers and underwear down in one swift move.

Malfoy looked down, licked his lips, and grasped Harry’s dick with a single, soft hand. Feeling more vulnerable than he ever had in his life, Harry breathed sharply as Malfoy began to move his hand with almost expert skill, rapidly sliding up and down the length, brushing his thumb over the head every few strokes.

Closing his eyes, Harry sighed under Malfoy’s touch, even letting audible whimpers escape his lips. Malfoy chuckled, speeding up slightly, and Harry remembered that he was supposed to be in charge.

Harry opened his eyes again, seeing the satisfied smirk spreading across Malfoy’s face. Grabbing Malfoy’s chin vigorously, Harry forced his face downwards. “You’re enjoying yourself too much.”

Harry could feel the shiver of longing that ran through Malfoy’s body, and the Slytherin nodded meekly. Leaning forward, Harry bit Malfoy’s shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, before snarling, “Take your pants off.”

The sound of unzipping and heavy breathing filled the heated silence for a few moments. Malfoy pulled his wand out of his pocket and Harry took a step back, wondering fleetingly if the Slytherin would attack him. Instead, Malfoy dragged his wand through the air - a dagger appeared in midair, and he caught it by the handle.

Spurred by the lustful and frightened look in Malfoy’s pale grey eyes, Harry pushed him, face-down, roughly onto the desk as the blond grasped the knife in his trembling right hand. If he had been thinking rationally, Harry might have paused to ask about lubrication; his mind empty of all logic, he immediately pressed the tip into Malfoy’s entrance, making the breath of the boy beneath him hitch.

“Stop, that’s going to hurt,” Malfoy murmured rather unconvincingly. Frowning, Harry reached down and brushed a broomstick-calloused palm against Malfoy’s cock, which became firm almost instantly.

“It’s going to hurt, huh?” Harry laughed softly, lips moving into the crook of Malfoy’s neck. “You bet your ass it’s going to hurt…just as much as that knife will…go on, Malfoy. I want to see blood before you even _think_ about coming.”

Obediently, Malfoy bared his forearm, pressing the blade with delicious slowness into his flesh. He winced audibly in pain as a gash opened, crimson liquid flowing from it onto the desk. Blood pooled from the deep wound, its coppery scent drifting through the air.

Harry subconsciously licked his lips, slowly pushing deeper into Malfoy as the Slytherin began to slice himself a second time. The warmth and wetness surrounding his erection, combined with Malfoy’s agonized pants and the sight of blood pouring onto pale flesh…it took all of Harry’s self-control not to pound Malfoy mercilessly right then and there. Instead, he moved back and forth at a steady, unhurried pace, wanting to make the satisfaction last as long as possible.

“Faster…” Malfoy groaned, his hips matching Harry’s torturously slow speed. The tip of his knife gouged into his arm, and he let out a high-pitched moan as Harry plunged particularly deep.

Harry grabbed Malfoy’s short blond hair and pulled him upright. “What did you say?”

Malfoy gritted his teeth, his frustration turning Harry on even more. “Fuck me faster,” He demanded. Harry only slowed in response, succeeding in making an angry blush creep up Malfoy’s neck. “Fine!” Malfoy shouted, “Faster, please, I’m begging you, Potter-”

Malfoy’s pleading was cut off abruptly by a scream as Harry began to thrust, hard and fast and painfully dry. Skin forcefully slapped skin, Harry’s guttural moans and Malfoy’s lustful cries permeating the air and mixing with the scent of gore and sweat. Back and forth, a relentless rhythm marred only by the haphazard cuts of metal against pale, scarred flesh. That was easily the best part of this, Harry thought, Malfoy’s pleasured whimpers as he dug the knife, over and over, into his forearm.

Deciding that simply hearing his enemy suffer was not enough, Harry suddenly pulled out of Malfoy, making him hiss in displeasure. With insistent hands, Harry turned Malfoy over onto his back, to the Slytherin’s surprise.

“What are you-”

Harry silenced him with a fierce kiss, parting Malfoy’s lips unwillingly with his tongue. Simultaneously, Harry pressed Malfoy’s knees to the desk, arms flexing with the effort, to allow him easier access. Malfoy let out a startled “Mmph!” as Harry’s length filled him once more, silver eyes rolling back at the sensations this new angle created. But the moment he’d gained his bearings once more, his gaze snapped back to the boy fucking him ruthlessly, taking in every drop of sweat and inch of bronzed skin. The order in Harry’s emerald eyes was crystal clear, and Malfoy wasted no time complying.

The blade, shining with crimson, plunged anew into the imperfect flesh. Under Harry’s direction, Malfoy let his dagger wander about his own body, cutting his arms, torso, and thighs indiscriminately and letting out a cry of unadulterated passion every time he did so. Blood seeped into the desk, dripped onto the floor, and flecked onto Harry’s body. Through all this, Malfoy never looked away from his rival, his lascivious glare conveying rage, six years’ worth of it. And yet, his trembling hands and the way he gave in so willingly to Harry’s touch - it was clear to the both of them how much Malfoy enjoyed his own utter surrender.

Whitish pre-cum had begun to dribble from Malfoy’s dick, something that had not gone unnoticed by Harry, who was equally wet. He grasped the member before him with surprising gentleness, running his hand over the sensitive skin.

“You’re close,” Harry purred into Malfoy’s ear. The Slytherin only moaned in response - his slicing had slowed, and his eyes seemed to be glazing over. Harry grazed his teeth down Draco’s neck. “Wait for me.”

Malfoy could do nothing but nod as Harry pounded his ass with a renewed strength, desperate for release. His hand still relentlessly teased Malfoy’s cock, causing the Slytherin to groan in frustration.

Harry felt himself nearing the precipice, and he shut his eyes tight for a moment, head ringing with the noises of a helpless Malfoy squirming below him. “Shit!” Harry suddenly shouted, reaching his climax, and he pulled out again, taking himself in hand to finish over Malfoy’s supine figure. “Fuck you!” He cried, almost involuntarily, and he came with a rush of cum splattering Malfoy’s chest, already ruined with scarlet carvings.

“Kill me!” Malfoy gasped suddenly, and Harry opened his eyes in surprise to see Malfoy, his knife in one hand and throbbing cock in the other, looking up at him with an imploring stare. Shaking in fear or pleasure, Harry couldn’t tell which, Malfoy thrust the dagger towards him. “Do it!” He shouted, continuing to pull himself off with urgency.

Leaving no room for second thoughts, Harry took the knife from Malfoy’s blood-slicked hand. Malfoy’s chest rose and fell shallowly - _not for long,_ Harry thought vindictively, and he struck with the violence of an aggravated snake, smoothly and powerfully dragging the blade across Malfoy’s pale throat.

With a silent gasp, Malfoy came, and a second later his hands fell limp by his sides. Eyes the color of mercury stared blankly at the ceiling, their stillness contrasted by the carmine stream that flowed freely from his neck. The room stank of his blood, filling Harry’s senses with its heady and coppery scent.

Panting, and invigorated with the thrill of murder, Harry stumbled away from Malfoy’s still form, letting the knife clatter to the ground. It took him a minute to realize what he’d done, and he began to grin. _Draco Malfoy is dead,_ Harry thought triumphantly, as various fluids dripped down his warm body onto the flagstones. Looking around, he chuckled as he noticed how much of a mess they’d both made, though cleaning it up wouldn’t erase this glorious memory of Malfoy bleeding at his mercy, a memory Harry would surely recall many midnights in Gryffindor Tower with the scarlet hangings pulled tight round his bed.

Laughter filled the abandoned classroom as Harry siphoned off the gore and semen from himself, the desk, the floor, and the corpse with his wand. While dressing, he pocketed the Slytherin tie as a trophy before adjusting his own. Harry bent over Draco Malfoy’s cooling body, pressing one last kiss on his soft, lifeless lips. Wearing an expression not unlike his enemy’s trademark smirk, Harry slipped out of the classroom and locked the door with a flick of his wand, leaving the boy inside to rot.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it and want to see similar stories, or liked some aspects but want something different, feel free to let me know what you want to read next. Read the introduction to this series for guidelines and contact me on Discord @Mihane#8688 to request more kinky fics.
> 
> A special thank you to ALWDLM for the request :)


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